


Not a Grey Hair!

by Sherlock1110



Series: Random one shots [7]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, grey hair
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-06-08 19:56:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6871219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlock1110/pseuds/Sherlock1110
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock finds a grey hair. He is not happy</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not a Grey Hair!

**Author's Note:**

> Beta read by sherlockian4evr

Not a Grey Hair

 

“John!” Sherlock yelled.

He had bellowed so loudly that the doctor had squeezed his eyes shut in the hope the windows wouldn't shatter. Again. Blasted experiments. They were on their third set in under a year.

“Sherlock, you are less than 20 yards from me, you do not need to shout. Now what is the problem?”

“Do mirrors lie?”

The blond rolled his eyes. “It's a reflection, you wanker, so no, of course it doesn't lie.”

“What about those ones at the circus they make you short and fat and… well they just make you fat you couldn't get any shorter.”

“Shut it, Sherlock, before I come in there and beat you with the bloody mirror.”

Sherlock should have laughed but he didn't. “Did you have one of those lying mirrors installed in our bathroom?”

“Are you trying to make me insult you? Because if you are, you are doing a bloody good job. But don't worry I've already got a list, they are prepared for whenever you're a complete imbecilic arse hole.”

“No need to be rude.”

“Do we have to have this conversation with you in a different room?”

“What's the matter, John? You're less than 20 yards from me, after all.”

Now he was being sarcastic. Great. Annoying and sarcastic.

“Prick.”

“You still haven't answered my question.”

“No. I have not stolen some magic mirror from a circus so you can gawp into it all night, now what is the problem?” He repeated himself and Sherlock loathed it when he did that.

“Nothing,” his voice wasn't happy, that much was obvious, but it didn't sound like it was at the repetition.

“Don't make me break that door down.” The doctor pushed himself out of his arm chair, placing his book on the side.

“The doors open, John.”

“Then I'm coming-”

The door slammed and he heard the lock click. “No. Don't!”

“For Christ sake Sherlock, what is the problem?”

“Are you absolutely certain this mirror is the one that was here when we started renting the place?”

“Yes,” he sighed. “Now if you don't stop being a dick I will break the door down. Come. Out. Now.”

The door squeaked open silently and it was a rather child-like detective that had opened it.

“What is it?”

Suddenly his arm snapped up and he plucked at a certain hair amongst the mass of curls. “It's a grey hair! An actual grey hair! I'm 34!”

The doctor actually burst out laughing.

“Stop it, John! It's not funny.”

John couldn't stop. He nearly fell to his knees in his giggles. “Babe, I was finding grey hairs when I was 24.”

He pouted. “It's not the same.”

“Why isn't it?”

“You went to Afghanistan. It aged you.”

“Hey! I'm not through with my list of insults, you know.”

The younger man suddenly leapt so he was in John's arms, the older man had had no choice but to catch him, else they'd both have been squashed on the floor.

“It's really not the end of the world, Sherlock.”

The detective wrapped his arms around his neck. “It is, John, it is!”

“Greg doesn't think so.”

“Mycroft does, that's why he dyes his.”

John wanted to burst out laughing again but with Sherlock in his arms he feared he might drop him.

“Oh, you sod, God I love you.”


End file.
